Prince Paul Hip-Hops to His Own Drummer - the career of music producer Paul Huston

American Visions, Oct, 1999 by V. R. Peterson

"At their best," minister and professor Michael Eric Dyson reminds us in his 1996 collection of essays, Between God and Gangsta Rap, "rappers shape the tortuous twists of urban fate into lyrical elegies." From Dyson's vantage point, one can ponder such questions as whether an artist like Prince Paul and an incendiary project like Thieves could become the sort of evolutionary catalysts to rap that, not so long ago, Richard Pryor's edgy narrative candor was to black comedy.

"People respect the money, but not the art," says Prince Paul in a voice suddenly loud. "I'm sensitive to what I do. When I started out, it was cool to be original. Now everyone is focused on making cash, and that's stagnating the creativity." And though he won't name any specific passengers on rap's gravy train, when he speaks of his own efforts, his voice sounds strident. "My mind moves to what's different," he says. "I go against the grain. I don't label. That's my problem."

It is also his background. Born in Flushing but raised in Amityville, N.Y., Prince Paul recalls spending his youth in a house set apart by music. His mother, Peggy, a home health aide, listened to rhythm and blues. His father, Thomas, a truck driver (now deceased), collected jazz. Prince Paul, the youngest of three children, remembers having his own little Mickey Mouse record player. ("I got my first 45 rpm from May's department store. I think it was `Hot Pants.'") The impressions from those days are heard in his work today. He says: "I gravitate to kiddie records and TV themes like G.I. Joe, Spiderman." And sometimes, as on his 1996 release Psychoanalysis (What Is It?), to Sigmund Freud. Funny, experimental, criticized for its surprising sexual innuendoes, Psychoanalysis received positive reviews and gained notice not only from Chris Rock, but also from the Library of Congress.

On Thieves, Prince Paul's lyrics are again X-rated, but his criminally street-smart persona is, he says, an act. "I grew up with morals," the rapper states in his own defense. "I hold the door for you; you hold the door for me." He suggests, however, that the coarse language on Thieves is part of making his characters visual--that despite a certain crude realism, this material is primarily broad parody, intended to make an audience laugh. "Everything makes me laugh," says Prince Paul. "I watch game and body language."

Still, isn't there a message in A Prince Among Thieves? "I see the dream of a record deal every day," says Prince Paul. "I don't come from that `a-record-deal-by-any-means-necessary' mentality. What I share with Tariq is being naive. He is based on the way I saw life. When I wrote A Prince Among Thieves, I was going through the roughest time of my life."

Specifically, three years ago, Paul Huston went through a custody battle for his son, Paul Jr., now 7. Ironically, in court, Prince Paul, the man whose work defies easy categorization, found himself being labeled: "I had tons of work, but being a black rapper was a negative thing," he says. The child's mother was awarded custody. Prince Paul appealed the case and won custody of his son in 1998.